


Team Spirit

by carolinecrane



Series: down is where we came from [30]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-01
Updated: 2010-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puck doesn't dress up for Halloween. But Kurt does.  Set somewhere around the events of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/collections/down_is_where_we_came_from/works/114821">Easy Money</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Team Spirit

Puck's never been all that big on Halloween. He usually ends up working that night, mostly because the tips are good, and if everybody else wants to get dressed up and act like a bunch of idiots, he's fine with being the one who makes the money. Besides, he's happier behind the bar, where at least there's a counter between him and the idiots.

This year's no different, because yeah, he's been dating Kurt for a month now, but he already said he'd work before they got together. If he had the night off Kurt would be forcing him into a costume and dragging him to some party, so he's sort of glad he told his boss he was available way back in September.

Kurt tried talking him into dressing up anyway, offered to make him a costume and do his makeup or whatever. Puck insisted a costume would just get in the way behind the bar, especially on a night as busy as Halloween. He could tell Kurt was a little disappointed, but he figures he'll just make it up to him once his shift's over and they can ditch the crowd and go somewhere with less idiots and a lot less clothes.

He knows Kurt's supposed to go to some party with Brittany, but he promised to come by the bar before Puck's shift is over so they can ride home together. Puck figures he just wants to show off his costume to as many people as possible; he hasn't let Puck see it or anything, but he's been hinting around about it enough that it must be pretty impressive.

Puck figures it involves way too much makeup and yards and yards of expensive fabric, hours at the sewing machine, all to wind up looking like every other drag queen in L.A. Not that he's planning to say that to Kurt, because for one, Kurt's _his_ queen, and for another, Puck's planning on getting laid at some point tonight, and insulting Kurt will put a serious hurt on his odds.

He's halfway through a totally crazy shift, pouring drinks left and right and ignoring dumb jokes about his 'bartender costume', avoiding the grabbier drunks and trying not to lose his cool completely when his back-up, namely the new girl, proves to be kind of useless. She keeps disappearing, anyway, and she's on her third 'break' of the night when Puck looks up to see Kurt walking in. He's got Brittany in tow, along with some of her lame friends, all of them dressed like characters from that fucking vampire movie people won't shut the hell up about.

Except Kurt. Kurt's not dressed like a vampire. He's not even done up like a generic drag queen like half the guys in the bar. He's not dressed like Cher or Madonna or that Lady Gaga chick he likes so much, even though Puck knows for a fact he has all three costumes. He's barely even wearing any makeup; in fact, until he sidles up to the bar and leans in for a kiss, Puck doesn't think he has any makeup on at all.

Puck's got a line of customers waiting for drinks, people five deep pressing in toward the bar and trying to shout over each other to get his attention. He's spent the whole night running and he's got the tips to show for it, and if he keeps up the pace this will be his best paycheck since New Year's. But as soon as he sees Kurt walk in he forgets the crowd, forgets the tip jar, hell, he forgets what drink he's supposed to be mixing.

He stands behind the bar and watches Kurt walk toward him, gaze moving from a pair of generic white tennis shoes he knows Kurt usually wouldn't be caught dead in, up a pair of legs he's had wrapped around his waist more times than he can count. They're bare to mid-thigh, and Puck swallows hard at the sight of Kurt in a miniskirt. A red and white miniskirt topped by a sleeveless top with the letters 'WMHS' in red right across the front, a red and white pom-pom in each hand, and the reddest lips Puck's ever seen.

And he's not sure where the hell Kurt found a Cheerios uniform in L.A., but he wants to buy a fucking _car_ for whoever hooked him up.

He's grinning like he knows exactly how good he looks, easing his way through the crowd and hopping up on a bar stool to lean across the bar. Puck moves forward like he's magnetically charged all of a sudden, reaching out to grip the front of Kurt's uniform and goddamn, he cannot _believe_ he's still got three hours left on his shift.

The last thing he wants to do is spend the next three hours serving drinks to people who've already had way too much. What he wants to do is get Kurt alone and bend him over the nearest flat surface, lift up that skirt and fuck him while he's wearing the uniform. And it shouldn't be as hot as it is, because he had sex with plenty of Cheerios while they were wearing their uniforms back in high school, so it's not like it's anything new.

Except he never had sex with _Kurt_ while he was wearing a Cheerios uniform, and until tonight he's never seen Kurt in a skirt.

He pulls Kurt forward and kisses him hard, smearing his lipstick -- and how bad does he want to see Kurt's lips wrapped around his dick while he's got lipstick smeared across his mouth? -- and reaching up with his free hand to flip the bird at the crowd catcalling and shouting obscenities around them.

When he finally lets up Kurt's breathless and a little dazed, and he's grinning like an idiot, but Puck has a feeling he's looking a little punch-drunk himself, so he's not going to point any fingers. And there's still a whole crowd of customers waiting for drinks, but at least the regulars -- and probably the drunks -- are enjoying the show enough to sound enthusiastic about the wait.

Kurt blushes and smiles like he knows exactly what he's doing, then he reaches up to wipe lipstick off Puck's mouth and says, "Go back to work, Noah."

Then he's gone, disappearing into the crowd in search of Brittany, and Puck resigns himself to a long night of fucking up drink orders and screwing himself out of tips.

He doesn't spot Kurt again until half an hour later, when somehow Brittany manages to get him out on the dance floor. And that's a fucking miracle, so either he's been drinking all night, or he's feeling _really_ good about his outfit. Puck's money is on both, judging by the way he's moving out there.

He's focused on the way Kurt's ass is moving, yeah, but he's got an eye on Brittany, too, because he's not all that crazy about the way she's looking at Kurt, to be honest. It's the uniform, he's sure, and yeah, okay, he knows the feeling, but still. That's _his_ Cheerio, and if Brittany wants to take a little stroll down memory lane, she can pick up the phone and call Santana.

Still, it's Brittany, and Puck knows what will happen if he throws a jealous boyfriend fit about Kurt's roommate. So he stays behind the bar and fucks up orders, ignores complaints because seriously, it's almost bar time and everybody in the place is tanked anyway. He's closing in on the end of the night -- fucking _finally_ \-- and still watching Kurt moving on the dance floor when some asshole comes up right behind Kurt and blocks his view.

Puck's eyes narrow when he sees the dude put his hands on Kurt's hips, then he sees red and white fabric being pushed up and before he even knows what he's doing, he's vaulting over the bar. He's got his hands on the guy before Kurt so much as turns around, one hand on the wrist that's working its way under Kurt's skirt and the other on the back of the guy's neck.

"I will fuck you up," he growls, and he doesn't even look at Kurt, doesn't want to know, just drags the dude toward the front door and _throws_ him at the bouncer.

"What's the problem?" Tito says, but he's already got the guy's arm twisted behind his back.

"Asshole can't keep his hands to himself," Puck answers, still staring at the guy and yeah, okay, he looks a little terrified. It makes Puck feel better until he remembers exactly _where_ the dude was about to put his hands, and then Puck just wants to break his fingers again. "Somebody needs to teach him some manners."

Tito snorts like that's a given and gives Puck a once-over. "So what, did you come dressed as me tonight or something, dude?"

"Nah, man," Puck answers, grinning at Tito for a second before he looks at the kid still cowering in his grip. "I'm dressed as the guy who's fucking the cheerleader."

Tito laughs and says something Puck doesn't hear to the guy he's holding, then he shoves him toward the door, and Puck turns and scans the crowd until he spots Kurt again.

He's standing right where Puck left him, not dancing anymore, and Puck expects him to look pissed. Because okay, maybe he overreacted a little, but that asshole put his hands on something that doesn't belong to him, and Puck's not going to stand around and let that happen.

Kurt doesn't look all that pissed, though. Embarrassed, maybe, but kind of turned on, too, and that's interesting. It's enough to make Puck forget that he left Kieran to shut down the bar by herself, but the truth is she kind of deserves it after the disappearing acts she's been pulling all night.

Anyway, all he's thinking about right now is Kurt standing in the middle of the dance floor in a fucking Cheerios uniform, lipstick still smeared and the soft hairs at his forehead sort of wet and stuck to his skin from sweat. Puck pushes through the crowd and grabs Kurt's arm, steers him across the dance floor and past the bar, down a hall that leads past the restrooms and toward the offices. He bypasses the men's room and chooses a door on the far side of the hall, then he pushes Kurt inside and shuts it behind them.

And okay, technically it's a supply closet, but mostly they just keep the extra bar stock in here, so it's not like he's asking Kurt to make out with him in a janitor's closet or anything.

"What just happened?" Kurt asks, and Puck can see even in the dim light from the single light bulb above them that he's really confused.

"He was touching you," is all Puck says, hands on Kurt like he's planning on a demonstration.

"Was he?" Kurt says, voice sort of soft and awed, like he honestly had no idea. And maybe he didn't; the guy didn't get very far before Puck practically broke his wrist, and the dance floor was pretty packed, so maybe Kurt didn't even notice a foreign pair of hands on him.

Puck's hands land on Kurt's waist, fingers running over the cheap fabric he hasn't felt in years. He lets his hands trail around to Kurt's back, then down across his ass to push up under Kurt's skirt. "Yeah, babe. He was."

Kurt's wearing those weird granny panty things all the Cheerios used to wear over their underwear, and Puck wonders if he actually made them to go along with the uniform. Because he had to have made this thing; back when he _was_ a Cheerio he always wore pants and a long-sleeved shirt, and he never looked this good in them.

If he'd worn a skirt back when they were in high school...well, Puck's pretty sure he would have found out a whole lot sooner just how interesting Kurt was, just as soon as he was done murdering half the football team for giving Kurt shit about it.

"Guess I can't blame him," Puck says as he hooks his thumbs in the stupid granny panties and slides them down Kurt's thighs. "The slutty cheerleader look really works for you."

Kurt smiles like that's the best compliment he's heard all week. "I heard somewhere that you liked slutty cheerleaders."

Puck laughs, because hey, he's not going to deny it or anything, and drops to his knees to pull Kurt's bloomers down his legs. Once Kurt steps out of them Puck tosses them to one side and slides his hands back up Kurt's legs.

"Don't lose those," Kurt says, hands on Puck's shoulders as Puck kneads at his calves. "I borrowed this entire ensemble from Brittany. If I lose part of it she'll freak."

"Seriously? Brittany still has her Cheerios uniform?"

Puck's hands slide up to Kurt's thighs, just above the back of his knees and Kurt gives a little shudder and spreads his legs further apart.

"Don't ask me why; I got rid of mine when we graduated. Sometimes I come home and find her hanging around the apartment in it. I made the mistake of asking once and she said something about it, I quote, 'making her feel like when puppies wiggle and lick your face'. I don't know if that means she finds it comforting, or kind of a turn-on. Frankly, I'm afraid to ask."

Puck laughs and slides his hands a little further up Kurt's thighs. The truth is it's probably both, in Brittany's case, but he doesn't bother to say so. Instead he watches Kurt's face while he pushes his hands up under Kurt's skirt, expecting to find nothing there except skin. When his fingers collide with more fabric he frowns and lifts the skirt up, his dick twitching when he sees that Kurt's not going commando under the bloomers after all.

"Are those...?"

"They're not Brittany's," Kurt answers, and when Puck glances up at him he's blushing harder than ever. "I thought it might help me get into character. I've never worn them before, but now that I have, I must admit I can sort of see the appeal."

Which is the understatement of the century, as far as Puck can tell, because Kurt's rock hard under the white lace panties stretched over his cock. He's straining against them, leaving a wet spot right up front and Puck can't help it, he has to lean in and press his mouth to that spot. His tongue pushes against the fabric, teasing the head of Kurt's cock through the lace and Kurt moans above him and reaches down to trace Puck's scalp with his fingers.

Truth is, Puck's never been much for accessories. He's never really seen the point of layers of lace or leather or whatever when naked is so much easier. Hell, he still goes commando most days, so the idea of Kurt in lingerie has never really crossed his mind. But something about the idea of Kurt wandering around L.A. all night in a Cheerios uniform, white lace stretched across his cock and keeping him hard while he thinks about Puck peeling these very panties off him later...yeah, okay, Puck's starting to see the appeal himself.

He mouths his way along the lace, working Kurt's length through the fabric. He's got one hand on Kurt's hip, thumb tracing the edge of the panties while he pushes his other hand between Kurt's legs to cup his balls. Kurt lets out a breathy little moan and pushes his legs even further apart, then he says 'Noah' all soft, like he's been thinking about just this, _exactly_ this all night long, and every bit of blood in Puck's body rushes to his cock.

The fabric's stretched tight across Kurt's balls, cock straining against it and there's a part of Puck that just wants to rip them off. Fuck however much Kurt paid for them; he's earned enough tips tonight to buy him a pair in every color of the goddamn rainbow. But they still have to get back to...well, somebody's place, anyway, and usually Kurt would argue, but Puck's place is closer, so he has a feeling he's going to win this one.

Anyway, they can't stay in the supply closet all night, and he kind of likes the idea of Kurt's dick still trapped in white lace when he's pressed up against Puck on the back of his bike.

So he doesn't tear through the lace; instead he mouths his way back up to the head of Kurt's dick, tongue teasing his slit through the lace until Kurt's breathing hard and straining against the hand still holding him in place. Kurt's hands are still on Puck's head, fingers flexing against his scalp and Puck knows if he had any hair that Kurt would be pulling way too hard for comfort right now.

His laugh buzzes against Kurt's dick, and the little jerk of Kurt's hips lets Puck know he likes that too. He pulls back just far enough to peel the top of the panties down, lets Kurt's dick pop free of the lace and Kurt moans above him when Puck pushes up on his knees and swallows Kurt whole. He's working Kurt's dick with his mouth, humming around him and there's drool running down his chin and settling in the lace still bunched up just above Kurt's balls.

Kurt's letting out these tiny, hitching breaths that sort of sound like _oh_ , over and over, voice rising a little with each one. Like he's surprised to find himself here. Like he didn't expect, when he pulled on a pairing of lacey fucking underwear and then a _cheerleader uniform_ , for Puck to start peeling that uniform right back off him again.

Then again, maybe he did expect it, because usually he'd at least put up a fight about Puck blowing him in a closet where anybody could walk in on them. Or maybe he's just been hard for so long that he doesn't even care anymore.

Either way, he's kind of whining in the back of his throat now, hips jerking forward and Puck relaxes and lets Kurt fuck his mouth. He slides his hand past Kurt's balls to cup his ass, pushing white lace between his cheeks and pulling a little, just enough to let Kurt feel the press of the fabric against his hole.

Kurt gasps and thrusts forward a little harder, and Puck swallows around him and pulls off just far enough to keep from choking when Kurt comes in his mouth. He swallows again, mouth still working loose around Kurt until he relaxes above Puck and slumps back against the boxes of Cuervo he's been leaning against.

Puck drags his mouth off Kurt slow, running his tongue along the bottom of Kurt's cock until he's spit-slick and moaning again. He looks up, dick throbbing in his jeans at the sight of Kurt with his skirt hiked up around his waist, panties pushed down and kind of crooked and his face flushed from coming.

Puck grins and tucks Kurt back in, leaning in to mouth at his softening dick through the lace one last time. Then he stands up and pulls Kurt's skirt down, leans in to press a soft kiss to wet, parted lips and pulls Kurt away from the boxes.

"That was pretty slutty, babe. I'm impressed."

Kurt laughs, blissed out and lazy, and slides his arms around Puck's neck. "I aim to please."

"So let's go back to my place and I'll let you show me just how slutty you can be."

He slides his hand back under Kurt's skirt, palming Kurt's ass through the lace. Kurt grins and presses up for another kiss, slow and deep and by the time he pulls back Puck's not sure he'll be able to make it to his place. Except he already knows exactly how worth the wait Kurt is, so he just lets go long enough to pick up Brittany's bloomers and shove them in his pocket before he reaches for Kurt's hand and pulls him back out into the bar.


End file.
